


A Dance, Not a Chase

by JantoJones



Series: Further Brief Briefings [29]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 02:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones





	A Dance, Not a Chase

“Any luck yet?” asked Napoleon, as his partner attempted to pick the lock of the cell in which they were being held.

He himself was sitting on the horribly stained cot, cradling his injured left arm.

“”Still no,” Illya replied, growing increasingly weary of Solo constantly asking. “You will be the second to know the moment I succeed.”

“You mean the first.”

“No. I will be the first.”

The pair had been caught breaking into a remote Thrush Satrapy, thirty minutes previously, by two guards. From what the agents overheard, their boss was away, so Solo and Kuryakin had been tossed into a cell to await someone from a much higher pay grade. Unfortunately, they were a little too rough with Napoleon, who had landed awkwardly and broken his arm.

“You can usually break out quicker than this,” Solo grumbled. He was in pain, which was fuelling his impatience.

“What is your hurry?”

“I have a date tonight.”

Illya sighed. He really should have known, given that it was rare for Solo to not have a date on his free evenings.

“The only date you will have is with a doctor, to get that arm fixed. Do you never tire of chasing women?”

“I don’t ‘chase’ women,” Napoleon stated emphatically. “It’s less a pursuit, and more of a dance.”

“Please enlighten me,” Illya said, with no conviction whatsoever.

“Well, to use the dancing metaphor, I first step towards her, and invite her to the dance floor. She then moves aside, making me change the steps, and I tempt her towards me again. She steps away once more so that I have to change direction once again. Finally, she accepts the dance I’m offering, and we sweep away into the night.”

“So, basically, you and the woman negotiate,” said Illya, not taking his eyes from the lock he was working on. “And she persuades you to give her everything she wants.”

“It isn’t like that at all. It’s a two way street and we both get what we want.”

Illya shook his head in disbelief. For a self-professed expert on the ‘fairer sex’, Napoleon seemed to have absolutely no idea that he was being played half the time.

“So who is it tonight?” he asked.

“Meryl,” Napoleon told him. “Since the support staff switched to those yellow sweaters, I’ve really noticed her assets.”

“She has a mind too you know,” the Russian mumbled, before exclaiming an ‘aha’ of triumph. “Ready to go, my friend?”

A few hours later, with his arm in a cast, and the other arm wrapped around Meryl, Napoleon thought back to what Illya had said. He had to concede that his partner may have had a point when he said the women always got what they wanted. However, he decided that it wasn't an issue because, at the end of the day, so did he.


End file.
